


Here In This Light (Hold Me And Don't You Ever Let This Die)

by skyyfreitas



Category: One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyyfreitas/pseuds/skyyfreitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: Louis and Harry's family have had a time share together since he two boys were young. Every Spring, both families stay at the house for a couple of weeks during Spring Hols. They always have a great time together, sharing the same room and making memories. But things have changed over this last year. You see, Harry grew up, Louis isn't straight, and the beach is for lovers, not lonely losers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here In This Light (Hold Me And Don't You Ever Let This Die)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larryonmygaywardson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryonmygaywardson/gifts).



> I honestly liked all of the prompts, and at first I was ready to write at least two of them, just because I couldn't take this other one out of my head, but then I got sick and couldn't really focus enough to write one, let alone two fics. Instead, I made this one a bit bigger, so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, I need to dedicate a whole thing to the lovely Belma (@helplarries on tumblr), because she was the very first person I shared anything I wrote with, and she was super lovely and made me blush more than a couple times. She was sweet and gave me the confidence boost I so desperately needed. The final product would be very different if she hadn't fixed all my silly mistakes and got the flow back going when the plot seemed stuck.  
> Thank you, thank you, thank you ♥ You're amazing, really.
> 
>  
> 
> Title from: The Lumineers - In The Light

**SIX YEARS BEFORE  
** **11 - 13**

The familiar sound of the nearby waterfall makes the boy smile. He’s eleven, but almost as tall as his fifteen years old sister, which also makes him smile.

The child lays down on the damp grass, a content sigh escaping his lips ,despite the chilly breeze.

“I’m gonna live here forever,” he promises.

There’s a twinkled laughter to his right, and then droplets of water hitting his chest as a warm hand tickles his sides.

“Never going home? Anne will have me killed Haz; is that what you want?”

The sun burns behind Harry’s closed eyes. The boy squirms and chortles as relentless hands titillate across his torso.

“Lou! Lou! Please, stop!” Harry yells, breathless. “Loooou! I beg you!”

The pleasant assault stops and, not so secretly, Harry wishes it back.

“You’re pouting,” a voice whispers in his ear. “Should I continue?”

Harry acts fast, green eyes snapping open as he spins away, a delighted laugh forming in his tummy.

“No! No more Lou, no more!”

Louis smile, hands up in a peaceful manner.

“Are you coming home then, curly?”

Harry stands up, holding a hand out for the older boy to stand up.

“Yeah, I’ll go home with you Lou.” he says, cuddling into Louis’ side as they start to walk.

 

Not for the first time over the last few years, Louis is extremely grateful for the Styles-Tomlinson spring traditions.

On the morning of the second day of break, since Louis was seven, they had their bags ready and the car full by eight am. Mark would always complain about the traffic if they left any later, but even that Louis could tune out, with the prospect of almost one month with nothing but the sun, waterfalls, his family and Harry. As much as Louis wouldn’t admit, spending time with Harry was one of his favourite things. The boy would always make him laugh; take his mind off of bad stuff that happened with a joke or a new story, and they had secret adventures like all the best friends did in the movies. Louis was always half expecting to find a treasure map or the bridge to a secret world with Harry by his side.

The Styles family was much smaller than Louis’ with his four sisters, with only Harry, Anne and Gemma. They’d meet straight at the Havana Restaurant for a late lunch, once they got into town, and then - Louis assumes - their families will drive off to the house on Vista Road; their base for the next three-to-four weeks.

By that time, Louis and Harry are usually already out and about, exploring their small safe haven and discovering new things to do and see each time.

 

 **TWELVE YEARS AGO  
** **5 - 7**

“She’s a very dear friend of mine, Boo Bear. And her children are lovely, you’ll see!” Jay promises as she looks back, making sure her eldest son has got the seat belt on.

The woman has to hold back laugh as she catches the adorable pout and frown on her Louis’ face. He’s quick to cover it up once he sees his mother looking, instead just pursing his lips.

“But it’s so far away mum! Will we really have to drive _six hours?”_

At that, Lottie looks up from her colouring book.

“Mum! Mum! Six is this many!”  She announces proudly dropping her crayons in the rush to hold up seven fingers.

“Yes Lotts, you’re right!” she cheers, still smiling as she turns to her son. “You’ll see darling, it won’t even feel very long. And the place will be worth the wait, mummy promises.”

Louis looks like he’ll argue; frown back in his features, but just then Mark enters the car, cigarette already lit in his lips.

“Let’s go?”  He asks, already starting the car.

“Dad!”  Louis whines. “Mr. Gibson said smoke is bad! And Fizzy is too little to be bad!”

Marks glares through the rear view mirror, before looking over to a discontent Jay and putting out the cigarette.

“You’ve told me that twenty times already, Louis.” He stops, when Jay raises a disapproving eyebrow at him. “Sorry bud, I won’t smoke in the car anymore.”

“Shouldn’t smoke at all,” comes the reply from the seven year ~~s~~ old.

Mark just plasters on a smile as they drive off.

 

 **TWO YEARS AGO  
** **15 - 17**

The black sky slowly fades away, shades of blue and orange making themselves noticed gradually as the night turns into morning.

In the red house, number 117 of Vista Road, two boys lazily swing in the hammock on the back porch.

Harry has one foot on the ground, the other tucked beneath his own thigh. His right arm is stretched out, holding a sleepy Louis Tomlinson in a strong grip. His own plaid blanket covers them, even though Louis’ stealing half of it; hugging it close to his neck.

They’ve been drinking the smuggled bottles of cheap wine Harry convinced Gemma to get them, as Harry told Louis all about his plans for clubs and projects he wants to do. In return he listened as Louis talked, uncertainty seemingly the only clear thing in the older boy’s near future.

For the last couple of hours they have been quiet, listening to each others breath as they wait for the sun to rise. It is their last day, before each family goes on their way and Harry and Louis won’t see each other face to face for at least a few months. Until Harry convinces Anne to let him spend Christmas at the Tomlinson’s, or Louis finds a way to pay for a train ticket to visit Harry.

“Hey, Haz?” Louis asks, voice rough and low from the cold night, or maybe the wine.

Harry turns to look at him, a smile on his lips. The younger boy feels that always-present feeling in his stomach looking at Louis cute red nose, and his parted lips.  Green eyes scan the places where Louis eyelashes cast shadows over his cheekbones, and he can’t help but hold the boy tighter; closer.

“Yeah, Lou?” Harry replies, after what is possibly too long.

However before Louis can say anything else, they hear a noise and the kitchen lights flick on. Both boys freeze, Louis discreetly putting the empty wine bottle between his and Harry’s thighs.

It takes a while, but the back door finally opens. Gemma slips past, a blue skirt and white shirt on with a pair of high heels in her right hand.

“Knew you two would be out here,” she giggles. “You know, normal teenagers would be out. There’s at least three different bonfires at the beach tonight. You losers should try to go out one of these days.”

“Yeah, well, next time we might try it, Gems.” Louis’ smile is wolfish as he hold his hand up in a solemn gesture. “I’ll send your baby brother to all the crazy raves and give him all the weird drugs, yeah?”

“Hey!”  Harry complains. “Not a baby.”

Gemma laughs, too loud for the early hour and is quick to cover her mouth with both hands.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan Lou. Good luck putting it in action though.”

Her gaze shifts to her brother’s, and the oldest of the Styles siblings winks, and sticks her tongue out.

“Baby bro is too domesticated for that scene, aren’t you?”

Gemma ducks back inside before Harry’s shoe can hit her, making a hollow sound as it hits the ground.

“‘M not a baby,” Harry mumbles again, looking down.

Louis nudges Harry’s shoulder, his cold nose sending a shiver down the younger boy’s spine.

“You ain’t a baby Haz.” He reaches out, intertwining their fingers. “You’re my best friend.”

The green eyed boy sighs, content, and burrows deeper into Louis’ side.

Louis knows how Harry feels about age; how he’s always counting the days ‘til his birthday, right from New Year’s Eve – which he usually spends in Louis’ house - he already has a calendar ready for the countdown. It is usually just jokes and giggles, but Louis knows that sometimes it really gets to him, and the blue eyed boy would do anything and everything to keep him happy.

As the first strike of sunshine splashes the sky, Harry turns to Louis.

“Hey, what were you going to say?” He asks, trying to hide a yawn behind a stretch.

“Nothing Haz,” Louis rolls his eyes. “C’mon then, we made it til morning. Let's go to sleep for a couple hours before the mums start banging on our door.”

They stand up, Harry’s back and arms making a crunching noise that has Louis fretting over and teasing him for a good while.

They’re just about to enter their joint room when a door down the hall opens, and a rather sleepy Jay peeks out at them.

“Morning boys,” she whispers. “Louis, I hope you know I'm waking you up in one hour to pack up that mess of a bedroom.”

The boy makes a strangled noise, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Already packed.” Harry mumbles in the older boy’s ear.

Louis grins, his right hand coming to Harry’s wrist, small fingers dig in his pulse point as a gesture of gratitude.

“Everything packed and done, mother dearest,” Louis promises, solemnly. “It hurts that you'd think I'd leave it to the last second. As your first born, flesh of your flesh-”

“Oh okay,” Jay interrupts, walking towards the stairs. “you can sleep until we've to be off. There.”

The boys cheer to each other, walking to the room and are about to close the door, as Jay turns around, a telling smirk on her lips.

“Oh, and Louis?” she quips. “Do thank lovely Harry for your extra sleep.”

 

 **ONE YEAR AGO  
** **16 - 18**

It’s almost three am when Harry gets the call. His mouth tastes stale and his eyes are partially closed as he searches blindly for the phone he knows is somewhere beneath his covers.

When he finally finds it the bloody thing has already stopped ringing. Harry groans, burying his head again in his pillow before turning on his side. He blinks for a few seconds trying to regain focus and stop a yawn - the latter unsuccessful.

Harry finally finds it in himself to reach back for his phone, squinting before turning down the brightness on it.

_missed call: Lou_

_5 whatsapp notifications_

 Harry frowns. They’ll be seeing each other in less than twelve hours. Has something happened?

Before he can panic - Louis always said he got too worked up over nothing - he opens the whatsapp conversation.

 

Harry keeps waiting,  but doesn’t get any reply to his own messages. In the end, he follows Louis’ advice and goes to sleep.

-

In the morning, Harry tries to call Louis, but his call goes straight to voicemail. He sighs. They’re probably on the road, and Louis is always complaining about the shitty signal. He figures whatever it was, they’ll just have to talk about it later today. 

At that thought, Harry can’t help but smile. For the next three weeks, he’s going to be doing and plotting all sorts of things with his best friend, and if there’s one thing Harry lives for, it’s the spring holiday.

-

When Anne’s red Toyota stops in front of the Havana Restaurant, Harry gets the feeling something is wrong. The Tomlinson's have, for the last ten years, always got there before them (something about Mark and traffic that Louis never really explained to Harry). This time, however, there’s no van anywhere in the parking lot.

Gemma seems to sense her brother’s distress, because she hooks an arm with his and pulls the boy towards the restaurant’s entrance.

 

They sit at one of the bigger tables, the party of a dozen know well enough by the staff, and Anne asks for a pitcher of orange juice as they wait.

“Mum, has Jay said anything to you?” Harry inquires.

“Oh Harry, I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough.” She pats his arm absently. “Jay’s seven months now, isn’t she? They probably have to make many more stops.”

“Probably. Yeah, you’re right. They’ll be here soon, yeah.” He sighs, placing his head in his hands on the table “Thanks!” He amends, when the waiter pours him orange juice.

Gemma snickers into her cup, orange juice spilling over her chin.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Nothing. Nothing.” She cleans herself up. “It’s just painfully obvious how much you want Louis here-”

“Gem!”  Anne scolds.

“What!” The girl frowns. “It’s not like no-one cansee how Harry is!”

“WHAT?”  Harry spurs. “See what?”

“Oh Harry…” Gemma sighs.

She searches her brother’s face and upon finding whatever it is, her smile drops. She shakes her head and holds Harry’s hand tight.

“Nothing, really.” she promises. “Teasing you.”

Harry looks over his mum, and Anne smiles. The same kind of smile she’d always give Harry when he needed comfort. The smile that reminds Harry of scrabble on rainy days and the smell of his mum’s hair.

“Love you” she mouths.

The moment is cut short by the screech of two little girls running into the restaurant and right into their table. The next couple of minutes is a blur of blond hair and, “Auntie Annie! Gemma! Hazza!”

The Tomlinson family breeze into the restaurant. Harry looks up from where Phoebe is pulling quite hard at his hair, and searches the room for a boy with blue eyes but doesn't find him. Instead, the green eyed boy catches sight of the older Tomlinson girl, who now has ice blue hair. Harry likes the change, but what makes his stomach drop is the look she gives him. In a way similar to when she was twelve and told him she’d fail the year and everyone would hate her while tears threatened to escape her eyes. Harry remembers how much time he and Louis spent at the house that year, teaching Lottie all they could, and cuddling her when she got scared she'd fail anyway.

Harry takes Phoebe in his arms and slings her on his back as he reaches for Lottie.

“What happened?” he asks, in lieu of greeting. Harry then frowns at himself and hugs the fifteen year old girl. “Sorry, hi. What's wrong?”

Lottie laughs, but it's short and forced. Harry's frown deepens as he puts Phoebe down and moves closer to Lottie.

“Lotts. What's wrong? And why isn't Louis here?”

“I can't tell you,” she shakes her head. “He’s okay, Haz. He’ll be here later, really. It's just… He's the one who should tell you about it, okay?”

She hugs him, places a brief kiss to his cheeks and goes over to talk to Gemma.

Next, Harry turns to Jay.

 -

  _Vista Road, 117._

 That day they have lunch without Louis - or Mark, for that matter.

Jay’s explanation was brief and vague, the boys had somethings to take care of, and would be coming later. She had changed the subject quickly and firmly, and Harry didn’t say anything because of the hard nudge and stern look of his mother’s.

 Evening rolls around, and Harry still hasn’t been able to talk to Louis, or get any information on the boy’s whereabouts. He sits on the living room, barely paying attention to the memory game Daisy and Phoebe bullied him into, losing rapidly to the twins.

He sees movement on the front porch, a floral dress blowing in the wind. Jay is on the phone, Harry notes.

With no grace, he bows down from the game, and goes towards the door. He opens it quietly, poking his head out. The boy doesn’t want to eavesdrop on the conversation, of course. But what if it’s about Louis? Shame twists his stomach in knots as he hides in the shadows, and listens.

“I don’t care Mark!” the woman barks.

Harry blanches. He really really shouldn’t be here. Whatever Marks says on the other line infuriates Jay even more.

“He’s my kid Mark! I don’t _care!”_ Pause. “Then act like it! If Louis doesn’t get here in the next hour, so help me God, I’ll drive back there and _skin you alive.”_

Harry breath hitches. So it is about Louis. What the hell happened? Lottie said it wasn’t bad. This definitely sounds extremely bad. And now he needs to slip back into the house before Jay sees him, because Harry doesn’t think he can handle the same fire Mark just did.

Before he can move, Jay is turning off the phone and sitting down in the yellow loveseat, and looks straight to where Harry swore he was hiding.

“You can come out now, Harry.” She says, voice completely different from seconds ago.

Harry knows his legs are moving before he can make them stop, or before he can even think of a bloody excuse. He feels himself go red from his ears to his toes, he’s certain.

“I’m… Jay - I didn’t, well I- Just” He stumbles around. “I’m sorry. I-I don’t…”

“Harry!” Jay laughs. “It’s okay sweetie. Come sit.”

She pats the seat beside her and Harry lets out a breath of relief. The boy rushes to sit next to Jay, who immediately places an arm around his middle, petting his curls with her other hand while he tries to even his breathe. Jay laughs again, but it’s short and sad. She then sighs, delicate fingers pressing against his rib cage.

“I’m really sorry,” Harry says. “I just… ‘M worried about Lou, but I shouldn’t be listen to your conversations. Sorry.”

“I know you are sweetie.” Jay says, after a moment, expert fingers now carding through the brown curls. “I’m worried about him too.”

Harry sits up at that, bottom lip caught in his teeth already.

“He and Mark had a fight,” she says. “And a pretty bad one... Louis left, said he’d take the bus here, but that was eight hours ago, and he should be here already.”

Dread spreads chills through Harry’s body, but he can also feel Jay’s leg bouncing at his side. He takes a deep breath, holds the woman’s hand in his own.

“Why don’t you grab mum, and you both take a look around town? It isn’t that big of a place. Surely you’ll find him. And Gemma can watch the little ones with the girls. I’ll see if I can find him too, and whoever does - or if he ends up coming here, we call each other, yeah?”

Jay nods, frustration still visible in her features. Harry goes inside, explains the situation to Anne and Gemma since the other girls seem to know enough. It takes less than five minutes for his mother and  Jay to be walking towards the car, shoulder lines tense with determination. They said they’d look first at the bus station; see if anyone maybe saw Louis, and go from there.

Harry helps Gemma with a quick snack for the kids, and then he’s out the door, jacket half on and another one in his hand for Louis - who knows what the boy is wearing, or where he’s at, for that matter.

He takes the pink bike; the one Gemma is always giving him shit for, but there’s a basket on the front for the coat, and it’s comfortable enough for both him and Louis, if Harry’s lucky enough to find him.

He first goes to the beach, the nearest location to the house. There's a spot where they found a dead octopus seven years prior engraved in his brain as the spot he and Louis would always end up at on their beach days.

But the coast holds nothing more than couples drunk off each other and the occasional teen drunk on all sorts of things. At any rate, there's no blue eyed boy in sight anywhere.

Harry curses under his breath, worry clawing up his throat. He climbs back on the bike and tries to think, the infinity of places Louis could be rush through his head, if he even made it to the city at all. He could still be home, hidden at a friend’s house, maybe Stan or Niall.

Harry’s eyes are damp, but he blames it on the fast pace he’s riding the bike and nothing more.

He stops at the factory - an old building they never knew what it really was for, but they’d explore it and venture inside when bored - but the place is full of high fences, for apparently it was bought recently.

Harry almost turns around, retracing every place he has ever even heard Louis mention, when he sees it.

He dismounts the bike, leaving it behind as he speeds up.

Poppy Hill is a place of calm, where you can watch the waves crash and kiss the shore, and if you’re lucky birds will feed from your hand. There’s yellow and blue flowers covering the ground, and high grass everywhere. The first time they discovered the place, Harry had a busted knee and Louis had to help him up and down, careful with easy yet firm hands around his waist. He’d said to Harry the view was magic, would make him feel all better in no time - and it had.

Harry’s almost at the top when Louis turns around. In the flimsy moonlight, Harry can’t really see his face. But the wind isn’t hard enough for him to miss the words the older boy spits:

“It’s _you.”_ He chuckles, dry of any humor. “Of course it’s you.”

“Lou…” Harry starts. Don’t know what else to say.

Louis stands up, shaking his head a couple times.

“Lou.” Harry tries again. “I was worried. We couldn’t find you anywhere, and then-”

“Did you considered I didn’t want to be found?” The boy interrupts. “Just, you know that’s usually how it goes when you can’t find someone.”

Something ugly twist in Harry’s chest. It’s not quite pain, but it still tugs him the wrong way.

Louis is just about to walk past him, enough space between them to make sure they don’t touch when Harry reaches out.

He catches Louis wrist in his hands and holds it there, even when the other boy tries to break away.

Harry hears the sharp intake of breath when he pull them into a embrace.

“Louis.” Harry organizes his thoughts, breathe in once or twice and let go of Louis. “I was worried.”

He looks down, and for the first time sees Louis face. There’s a bruise on his cheekbone, purple and angry.

The curly lad reaches out to touch, but Louis skirts away before he can, looking down.

“Leave it.” He snaps. “You found me, so let’s go.”

“Lou!” He means to say something, to understand or demand answers, but Louis keeps brushing him off the whole walk home.

Harry feels cold, and it has little to do with the wild wind.

 

At some point during their mute walk, Harry shot his sister a simple text: “ _Found him”._

So it’s really no surprise when they open the front door to be assaulted by the entire Tomlinson-Styles clan, Jay up front and holding her son’s head between careful fingers.

Louis still doesn’t look anyone in the eye, and Harry kind of wants to shake him, have him tell him what the hell is wrong, and what can he do to fix it, for god’s sake.

In the end, it’s Jay who gets him talking.

“I can’t believe this! Did Mark do this?” She nearly screams. “What happened Louis? You tell me now. You tell me _right now!”_

The boy only shakes his head, slipping away from his mother.

“It wasn’t like that. We both did stupid shit, we were… arguing.”

“About what?” Jay demands.

Louis lets out a sound. Something between a hurt animal and an angry human being. The look on his face as he surveys the room is wild, and Harry would swear that blue eyes lingered on him more than anyone, but that was probably wishful thinking.

“About me being gay, mum!” Louis shouts. His gaze doesn’t drop, but it’s hardening and suddenly Harry is the one to look down, even though right now Louis is staring only at his mother. “I’m fucking gay! I like guys and that’s a problem, innit?”

 

Louis looks around; Lottie has a sympathetic stare, Fizzy looks surprised, Gemma and Anne are apparently trying to blend in with the wall, while the little kids knows something is definitely up, but don’t seem to really mind and lastly, Harry, who’s looking down at his toes with big wide eyes. Louis scoffs, shakes his head.

“There! Everyone happy?” He snaps. Before walking upstairs. “Good night.”

He makes sure to bump shoulders with Harry, because how dare he? Or because he just wants some sort of reaction. Or maybe it’s none of that, and he really has no idea what he’s doing anymore.

He goes to his room, and lays down on the bed, awake for several hours, hearing about the aftermath of his explosion through paper thin walls.

 

“You knew?” He hears Fizzy saying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just thought Lou should tell.” It’s Lottie. “Didn’t think he’d do it like that though.”

“You could’ve told me.”

 

He rolls over, thinks about going in there and talking to the older girls. Just as he’s about to open the door, he hears Gemma’s voice, fairly close, and stops.

 

“You aren’t going to talk to him?”

 _“He_ doesn’t want to talk to _me_.” It’s Harry, and he sounds as he’s about to cry.

“Of course he does H.” Gemma reasons. “Go talk to him.”

“He didn’t tell me Gem.” Louis definitely hears a sniffle. “He’s my best friend, and he didn’t tell me. Why didn’t he?”

“Well. I guess you’ll have to ask him, yeah?” she sighs.

Louis hears them moving, and decides in a split second to go back to bed. He lays in silence, listening.

The door opens and closes quietly, Harry shedding his clothes as he gets under his bed.

“Lou.” He murmurs.

Louis doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move. Tries to keep his breathing as calm and timely as possible.

“Louis.” Louder, Harry sits up. “Lou, please.”

Louis doesn’t know why, couldn’t really explain if he tried, but he just… pretends to be asleep, that he doesn’t hear the waver in Harry’s tone.

He hears an audible sigh, a little sniff, and then Harry is rushing out of the room, the door still half open as he left.

Louis sits up, sees the bare bed besides his, blankets and pillow gone to wherever Harry went. The boy waits a few minutes, for any sound. Any indication that Harry might come back, but it doesn’t happen. Louis punches his own pillow a few times, toss and turns in the bed searching for a more comfortable position, and wills himself to close his eyes and sleep.

 

 **NOW  
** **17 - 19**

It takes a while until Harry realizes that whatever new dynamic he has with Louis now, it is nothing close to what it used to be.

On that night, almost a year ago, Harry had said to himself time and time again that Louis behavior was expected. The boy was tired and angry, and surely needed to think, needed to be alone. He didn’t want to impose, is the thing. When Mark showed up somewhere in the second week, Louis and the man had gone for a little over an hours, rashing out whatever there was to talk about the two of them. Harry never learned how the conversation had gone, for as much as the blue eyed boy had stop sulking around, he became somehow closed off towards Harry, claiming the younger boy had to ‘understand’. Harry still understood nothing.

After the holidays, the strain in Harry and Louis’ relationship got even more evident; the phone calls were few and far in between, never long enough before something came up and they were cut short. The texts, going days unanswered and with vague responses and little inquires. There came a time when Harry learned not to call so much.

Maybe Harry just wanted to avoid all of that when he asked Niall to join him, without thinking much about it. Gemma was going to the U.S. to celebrate her best friend’s birthday in Vegas, now that they were all twenty one, and Harry had already accepted that the awkwardness between him and Louis would only end once the older boy decided to. It wasn’t that he was bitter - he’d fight Gemma whenever that came up. - he just wasn’t really feeling it; spending a month with nothing to do because his best friend decided he liked dick so much he became one.

So, okay. Harry was a bit bitter. But after more than a decade, Louis decided Harry wasn’t the kind of friend he needed, and it hurt.

That’s what he explains to Niall, as he lays upside down on the blond’s bed.

They’re leaving in a couple of hours, Anne and Robin driving by the Horan’s to pick the boys up, as Harry had to make sure Niall was at least _awake._

“I always thought Louis was cooler than that, to be honest.” Niall says, picking up another tank top to throw into his duffle bag.

The irish one stops, turns around holding two polo shirts.

“Do you think we’ll go golf?”

“There’s always the chance, Nialler.” Harry conceded. “Louis _was_ cooler than that though.”

“Remember summer ’09?” Niall chuckles. “He was only here for a week, and managed to form an uprising at the public pool.”

“I remember,” Harry groans, smothering himself deeper into the bed sheets. “I don’t care that he’s gay. Why’s he being so difficult?”

Niall finally stops rummaging through his closet, shoving the clothes deeper into the bag and sitting atop of it, trying to close it.

“Well, you surely shouldn’t care, mister heartbreaker.” Niall sounds breathless. “Didn’t Bianca Frett try to set you up with her brother last week?”

The blonde kid jumps a few times on his bag, finally pulling the zipper halfway.

“Shut up Neil, I’d never go out with Brad Frett. His name’s ridiculous.” Harry waves his hand about.

“You shut up. Help me out here.” Niall begs from the floor. “I don’t want to have to _fold.”_

 

  _Havana Restaurant, six hours later._

 The familiar Tomlinson’s silver van is already parked when Robin pulls the car into the parking lot. Harry stomach turns at the thought of seeing Louis, now. He doesn’t even know if he can hug his best friend, and how fucked up is that?

Anne and Robin get out quickly, and Niall pulls lightly at Harry’s curls to get the younger boy moving.

Sensing the distress of his best friend, Niall is quick in cuddling to his side.

“It’s fine, H.” He promises. “I’ll be with you all summer, yeah? You may be too cute to tell him when he’s being a dick, but m’ not. So, you’ll be fine.”

Harry makes a non committed noise, not entirely sure how fine he can be for the next weeks. Niall just laughs, contagious as ever, and then the blonde boy is tickling Harry’s side, and they’re both almost falling behind Anne and Robin, laughing for no reason at all.

It was a great choice to bring Niall, Harry decides. If only because the boy can make him laugh whenever it seems impossible, like when you’re about to see your best-but-not-quite-mate; the urge to throw up from seconds ago remedy by a steady hand on his side and genuine laugh. Everything would be fine.

 

Nothing is fine. The twins go straight to Harry, asking about Gemma and demanding introductions to the new friend.

They like Niall’s accent, and he makes them laugh genuinely in less than one minute, so they start to drag the blonde boy around, introducing “Harry’s friend!” to everyone.

Harry can feel blue eyes glued to him as he moves around the table, giving hugs and kisses and generally catching up as he coos to the new, younger Tomlinsons. Jay holds Doris out for Harry to hold, and the boy accepts with a dazzling smile. She makes a babbling sound, not quite speaking yet, but trying to.

“Can you say ‘mum’ yet?” he inquires, voice soft. “Hm, you clever girl? ‘Mum, c’mon, Jay would love if you said it now, wouldn’t you?”

Harry looks up from the little girl, expecting Jay to be holding Ernie and looking at him. Instead, he’s met with Louis Tomlinson looking him over. Not even three meters away, Jay now talking with Robin and Anne in the far corner of the table.

“Oh.” Harry blinks a couple times. He was expecting to be the one to go over to Louis, eventually. “Lou, hi.”

“You brought Niall with you?” The other boy asks in lieu of greeting. “This is a family thing, you know?”

Harry sighs, shoulders deflating. Doris grabs a fistful of his hair, and her little golden bracelet twists and gets stuck in it.

“ _This_ is why I brought a friend with me.”

Harry gestures between the two of them with his left hand, while holding Doris’ wrist in the other. Louis frowns, opens his mouth for a second like he’ll say something, but in the end looks away, mouth in a thin line. Harry just rolls his eyes before going over to Niall, who promptly laughs when he notices the little situation.

“Heeelp,” Harry whines. “Unclip the bracelet so I can get it off.”

Fizzy shows up then, laughing and taking Doris in her arms when the bracelet slips off the baby’s wrist.

“Mum says you two better figure out what you want to eat,” the girl nods to the other end of the table, where most people are seated and the waiter is just about to get their orders.

Harry looks around, from Jay, who's putting Ernest in a high chair to Fizzy and Louis talking at the foot of the table. Harry quickly looks away from their conversation, especially when Niall tugs on his hair, trying to remove the bracelet.

“How was that, mate?” Niall asks.

“Nothing I wasn't expecting, really.” Harry sits down, after Niall's hand leave his hair. “Is it gone?”

Niall is already absorbed in the menu, looking up casually at Harry.

“Gone in your hair, more like.” The blonde kid lets out a booming laugh. “I tried mate, I think I just made it worse.”

“Niall!” Harry cries out.

“Harry, darling?” Anne calls. “Okay?”

Harry knows his mother well enough to know she's asking him to tone it down.

“You’re a tit.” he mutters under his breath.

“Love ya too,” Niall promises, smacking a loud kiss on his cheek and patting his hair.

Harry smacks his hand away, eyes automatically going over to Louis for back-up, only to find the older boy looking at his menu, and his menu only. Right.

 

-

 

“Another?” Niall asks, holding out the bag of sweets to Harry.

They’ve been splayed out on the back porch floor for what it feels like hours now. Harry’s back wants to break in half, but at some point he stopped listening to his bones and decided to just do yoga in the morning. For the last few months Anne had been paying a physiotherapist to help Harry with the pain, and with time the boy found that the best exercise to ease it are the yoga sessions ~~.~~

“Nah mate, my back’s bugging me. I’m going to lay down.”

Niall shrugs, stuffing a handful of the candy in his mouth.

“Just don’t hog the whole bed. I‘ll kick ya if I need to.”

Harry pats the boy’s leg, wincing when he tries to stand up.

“Need help?” Niall’s already putting the bag down, but Harry stops him.

“It’s fine,” he promises, dragging out the word. The green eyed boy sits up, hands above his head to stretch with his eyes closed as he groans. “I shouldn’t be sitting on the floor anyway.”

“Here,” comes a voice.

Harry opens his eyes, startled. Louis tanned hand is in front of him, the older boy with a timid smile in his lips, dangling delicate fingers in front of Harry’s face. Oh.

Harry grins, looking down before taking the offered help.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

It still burns; his lower back cracks when he bends down to touch his toes with his fingers.

“Yeah,” Louis replies quietly.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, and then snorts. “Yeah. Good night.”

Louis nods, stepping aside to let him pass, a small laugh leaving him.

“Night H!” Niall screams, amused laugh in his voice.

Harry doesn’t answer, instead dashing upstairs to the bathroom.

 

When Harry gets to the room half an hour later, shirt halfway over his head and with droplets of water still falling from his hair, Louis’ already in his bed with a cellphone pressed to his ear and-

“Are you smoking?” Harry trips in his sweatpants, nose wrinkled, and Louis jumps in surprise.

“Hey Z, call in a bit,” the boy says, not waiting for the response before chuckling in phone away and stalking towards Harry.

“Talk any louder, yeah?” He scolds, bypassing Harry to softly close the door behind the younger boy. “Mum gets pissed when I smoke inside.”

Harry is confused; wide eyed, as he sits on his bed.

“But since when do you smoke?” He can’t help but hear the whine in his tone. “What the hell?”

Louis shrugs, but puts out the cigarette when Harry can’t stop looking at it like a personal offence.

“I don’t know, just started Harry.” He shrugs again. “Zayn’s always smoking, and I kinda-”

“Who’s Zayn?” Harry inquires. “You’ve got a boyfriend?”

What the younger boy really wants to ask is, who are you? It’s too hard to understand how his best friend changed so much in a year and didn’t bother to let him know anything at all. It hits him there, that while he had to learn to live without the constant conversations and news on Louis, Louis was living his life. Doing other things, meeting other people, having other adventures that Harry had nothing to do with.

“Christ, no!” Louis makes a disgruntled noise. “You sound like Mark.”

The blue eyed boy opens the window, takes out another cigarette and lights it, shaking his head.

Harry whines, because no, here we are again.  He flops down on the bed, balling his towel in his face.

“I’m so tired of this.” Harry says to himself. He presses the towel harder on his face, can’t and won’t have Louis seeing him cry.

He thinks of how much crying he’s done in the last year; every time Louis lashed out on him for no reason at all and all the times Niall had to slap him out of a rut where all he wanted was his best friend. Niall was, undoubtedly the best part of the last year for him. Harry kinda needs him right now. He then thinks about all the frustation and evasive manoeuvers Harry and Louis performed around each other, specially over this week at the house.

When Harry’s certain he won’t cry, he takes the towel off his face. Louis’ still by the window, back on his phone and with his back turned from Harry.

“Half a mind to go back to Doncaster, really,” the older boy’s whispering. “Shite, mate.”

And that—Harry’s had enough.

“You know what? Don’t bother!” He says, picking up a pair of shoes and a purple jumper. “I’ll be out of your way Lou. Promise you won’t even cross paths with me ever again.”

Louis turns around, eyes wide and mouth open. Harry can’t help the wetness to slip out of his eyes.

“Harry-” Louis starts with a sigh.

“No. Fuck off.” Harry leaves the room, taking the stairs two at a time and over to the back porch to find Niall. He’s in the kitchen when the back door open, a sleepy Irish lad walking through.

“Hey Haz, weren’t you-” The boy then seems to take in Harry’s state. “Bro?”

Harry shakes his head, more tears falling out of his eyes.

“Let’s go out, please? Please?” Harry knows he must look... not well.

“Yeah. I’ll just get a coat.” The irish lad promises.

Lottie’s hanging out in the dark living room, notebook in her lap brightening her face. When the two boys trudge into the room, she looks up.

“Everything okay?” She asks, softly.

“Yeah, just going out for a bit,” Niall answers for Harry, pushing him towards the door.

“Bye Lotts,” Harry manages. The girl just look at them quizzically and waves them out.

Harry locks the door and Niall waits for him, holding his waist and pulling the younger boy close to his side.

“Any reason Louis’ looking out the window, mate?” Niall whispers in Harry’s ear.

“Smoking, probably. He doesn’t want to have lungs, apparently,” Harry mutters.

“Oi!” Niall laughs, digging into his back pocket. “So I shouldn’t show you this then?”

Niall flashes Harry the ziploc bag for only one second, before putting it in his pocket again, not before Harry could identify the buds and lighter inside. Harry snorts.

“Different kind of smoke, Nialler.”

“And Niall saves the day once again!” The boy gloats.

 

It’s after four a.m when they stumble back to Vista Road. For the last three hours Harry cried away any tears he could, and then Niall helped Harry use every word in the book to call Niall.

Sometime in between the second and third blunt Harry became the usual gooey, happy thing he is whenever under influence. Niall, always better at holding his liquor and his drugs, is the one to bring Harry home.

They both try to not laugh too loud when the key falls out of Harry hands more than six times before he manages to fit it in the lock, but they’re still giggling when they get to the second storey and into the shared bedroom.

“He awake?” Niall murmurs to Harry, clinging to his back when the other boy opens the door just a bit.

“I don’t think so.” Harry replies. “I don’t care right now either way.”

Harry has another fit of laughter when Niall pats his back, and twirls into the room.

“I’m knackered, mate. Now that you vented out all the…” He flaps his around in the direction of Louis. “I’m gonna sleep.”

Harry nods, stumbling towards the wardrobe while Niall flops on the bed and promptly starts to snore.

Harry shimmies out of his clothes, humming the damn song Niall played thirtytwo times on his phone while they were out.

“Hey Ni, what’s that song?” He asks, turning around.

Niall keeps snoring, instead, Louis sits up on the bed. Looking at Harry with careful eyes.

“You were out late,” he murmurs.

“Are you going to give me shit for it?” Harry snaps, hands on his hips.

Louis looks taken aback.

“No, I just,” Louis swallows dryly. “Are you ok?”

“Are you?” Harry counters. “Because I don’t know how long I’m going to keep trying, Louis. I don’t even know _why_ I try.”

Louis looks down, licks his lips and looks back up. Harry wishes the lights were on, so he could see Louis’ eyes and try to read them - or maybe, he thinks, it’s better that the lights are off, so he can’t see only guarded eyes and bad feelings.

“Harry this last year has been…” He trails off. “We can’t keep… Look, it’s late, we’re both tired. Go to sleep H.”

“Can’t _what?_ ” Harry demands, stomping his foot. “ _Talk_ to me. Why don’t you ever talk to me anymore?”

“I’m sorry Harry. Really am.” Louis turns his head to the side. “I’m gay-”

“Oh my god!” Harry groans. “I don’t care! I just want you to stop treating me like shit, and then ignore me! Can’t you see that? You were suppose to be my fucking best friend! Who’s fucking completely straight anyway, you self absorbed hairless cunt! Why the fuck would I care what you like up the arse you stupid-”

A hand settles on Harry's shoulder, a hard squeeze followed by a light pat. Harry turns around to find Niall, arms already open wide. Harry rejoices on the embrace, a sob involuntary leaving his lips.

“Haz…”

Louis’ right beside them, the tone of his voice is so careful and warm, so much like it once was that Harry can’t help but cling harder to Niall, because it hurts. Hurts like broken glass, cutting skin in an ugly way and with no regard for the flesh.

Niall’s hands envelope Harry’s waist as he spins them around, putting himself as a human barrier between Louis and Harry.

“Fuck off.” he warns, tone more dangerous than Harry ever heard. “You fuck right off. I mean it.”

“I just-” Louis starts

“I don’t care.” Niall says. “We’re going to sleep. And you stay away from him. You’ve done plenty already.”

Harry is led to bed, Niall talking in a soothing tone, telling him to sleep, just sleep, he’d be there. Harry snuggles close to the wall, eyes watery and throat raw. It takes forever, or maybe no time at all, and Harry falls asleep.

 

 

Its after 3 p.m when Harry wakes up, bleary eyed and squinting at his phone screen. The curly boy groans, turning on the bed and getting up. His body’s sore and there’s a dull ache at the back of his head, either from the weed or the fight, he’s not sure.

The blinds are drawn in the bedroom, but light still flits through the window as Harry tries to locate his clothing. He remembers stripping to his pants and a Tshirt, but doesn’t know when he woke up to pull on the jumper he’s currently wearing. The jeans he kicked off when he came home are placed on the desk chair to the right, and he has to remember to thank Niall for taking such good care of him.

Harry puts on some sweats before strutting downstairs, only to find the house completely quiet.

There’s no one in the living room, and the kitchen is also void of people, back and front porch in much of the same state. Harry is confused, about to call either his mum or Niall, when the front door opens, irish accent booming loud through the walls.

"And then, we just ran away with the maracas and the paintball guns! Nick only forgave us when Harry baked like, thirty muffins."

"What?" Lottie is hysterical. "Oh my god, can't believe Harry never told us that story!"

Harry blanches. Oh my god. He runs towards the living room.

"DID YOU JUST TELL MY MUM ABOUT NICK'S?!" He shouts, stopping short in the entry way. "Oh."

Entering the house is Niall, Lottie and Louis at the end, holding Ernie's hand and a bunch of grocery bags in the other.

"Harry "the bunny" Styles!" Lottie and Niall announce together.

Lottie is howling with laughter, Niall passing by with a wink towards Harry, while Louis looks resolutely to the floor and urges Ernie along.

"Uh..." Harry follows them to the kitchen hesitantly. "So where's everyone?"

"They took the kids to the fair" Lottie responds.

"The kids? You're a kid Lotts!" Louis teases, putting things in the fridge.

"Obviously not." The girl counters, unfazed.

"And this little guy was too sleepy to go, weren't you?" Niall picks up Ernie, who admittedly have been blinking a lot.

Louis and Lottie are still putting away the grocery, and Niall is starting another story as he rocks Ernie clumsily in his arms.

"I can put him down," Harry says, sounding like a question as his eyes end up on Louis anyway, afraid to say something to set him off.

Niall just thrusts the kid into his arms. Louis still isn't looking up, so Harry takes his cue to move towards Jay and Mark's room to put the boy down.

He's rocking Ernie back and forth, a hand on the kids bum as the little one yawns and struggles to keep his eyes open. Almost unconsciously, Harry starts to hum some of the older twins favourite songs that he used to belt out with Louis when they were being particularly difficult with sleep and Jay was out. It doesn't take more than five minutes before Ernest is snoring, cuddling the small strawberry pillow he holds dear.

Maybe he should be more surprised, but Harry only frowns slightly when he sees Louis standing at the entrance of the bedroom.

Harry stands up, shoulders already tense for whatever comes next, and walks out of the room.

"Harry," Louis voice is soft and the older boy looks down. "Haz. Can we talk?"

"Yeah," Harry sighs. Louis nods towards their bedroom and Harry nods.

The older boy waits for Harry to enter before closing the door, and then walks to sit on the floor with his back to the wardrobe.

"I'm sorry," Harry starts, before Louis can. "I shouldn't have screamed at you last night. I was high and your life-"

"Wait what?" Louis sound incredulous, finally looking up, ice blue eyes meeting green forest.

He stands up, walking to where Harry is sitting on the bed and holds his hand.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing Harry! I've been shit to you for a long time," he breathes deeply. "Much more than a year, really."

Harry feels... He's not quite sure how he feels. Could this be it?

"But why, Lou?" Harry asks. "You don't talk to me. Never really did, after..."

"I know." Louis agrees, letting go of Harry's hand in order to scratch his face. "I was complete and utter shit to you, jesus." He chokes out. "Hope you can forgive me some day H, I really do. I was just... I still don't-"

He stops, shaking his head and looking up. Harry has known this boy for enough years to know when he’s trying not to cry, and Harry is halfway hugging him before he can think about it.

"It's okay Lou. It's okay, I'm here," Harry promises. "Forgiven, you're utterly forgiven. C'mon."

Louis' whole body wrenches then, the boy releasing an ugly sob and throwing his arms around Harry, squeezing the life out of him.

They stay like that for a long time. How long, Harry's not sure. Until Louis' body stops heaving and Harry's own tears have since long dried.

"I missed you. Every day, every time I was an arse." Louis' mumbling into Harry's collarbones. "I was just angry, and hurt. And I kept pushing you away 'cause I was afraid you'd do it to me, when I. When I came out."

Harry shakes his head, curls tickling Louis own face.

"I'd never Lou, never will.  You're my _best friend."_

“But how can you be okay Harry?” Louis sounds small, but still frenetic.”I’m… I felt like I tricked you.” He whispers.

"It’s not like that." Harry takes a deep breath, creates a bit of space between him and Louis. "I wasn't just angry screaming last night, y'know? No one is entirely straight. 'M not."

Louis eyes widen but his small fingers hold Harry tighter.

"You aren't?"

Harry nods. "When did that happen? Fuck. When all the other stuff happened, right? I missed the last year of your life." Louis looks down.

Harry hunches down to rest his head on Louis shoulder.

"Yeah, I think I'm just like... Like who you like." Harry's still talking lowly, as if his voice is more than a whisper, Louis will get spooked away. "And I guess we both missed the last year. We just have to find each other again.”

"I'd like that." Louis reply. "I’m sorry I was… That I treated you like that.”

“Lou, really, we’re fine.” Harry reassures. “I’m just ready to have things back to normal.”

The boys are quiet for a moment, before Louis pulls back with a upwards turn to his lips.

“You’re taller than me now! That’s not how normal used to work," he accuses, tone playful. "Can't believe that you'd do that to me Haz, honestly."

Harry laughs, feeling like all the weight of the world just lifted off his shoulders.

"Sorry about that." Harry nudges Louis calf with his own. Louis just tangles them together.

"I'm sorry. Really am." His voice back to serious. "You sure you don't want to scream at me again?"

Harry looks to his best friend, the guilt and hurt in his expression.

"Nah. Think you've got enough." He says. "From me and yourself, probably."

Louis nods, small smirk in his face when Harry pokes him.

"Yeah. Zayn and Niall too, this morning." Louis says quickly, a flush crawling from his neck to his ears.

"Oops?" Harry tries, because there's not really much to say.

Louis’ still looking odd, quiet and regretful and embarrassed, so Harry starts to tickle his ribs, which soon escalates to a play fight, Louis on top of Harry and tickling him mercilessly, until they both stop, trying to catch their breaths.

"Hi." Louis murmurs, taking Harry's hair out of his eyes. "I missed you."

Harry hums, large hands holding Louis waist.

"Missed you too, Lou." The younger boy promises.

Before either can do much more, the door bangs open, Niall entering with a small frown on his face.

"Is he-" The irish boy stars, and then looks to the bed. "Oh!"

Louis jumps at least a meter in the air, Harry is certain, and scrambles to get off the bed, looking like a kid caught doing something bad.

"We were just..." Louis trails off.

"We made up!" Harry offers, cheerfully.

Niall cackles, slapping his knee and holding the threshold for support.

"Fuckin' took ya long enough!" He cheers, once he can breathe again. "Louis, mate, breathe. I won't threaten you again." Niall's eyes diminish to slits. "You understood what I told you, right?"

Louis is quick to nod, so fast Harry thinks he might get whiplash. Then both boys in front of him are smiling, as Niall pats Louis shoulders and goes over to his duffle bag -- the lazy bastard refusing to unpack his messy bag.

"Well, I'm going to the pool with Lottie." He pulls out his swim trunks. "If you two would like to meet us downstairs. Although I already have the coolest Tomlinson."

Harry and Louis make an affronted sound at the same time, but Niall is already rushing to the bathroom across the hall and shutting the door behind him.

"He's not hitting on my little sister, is he?" Louis asks, still frowning. "I don't like this."

Harry shrugs.

"Who really knows with Niall?" He answers truthfully. "But he's harmless anyway."

Louis' still frowning, so Harry gets up from the bed, groaning and opens the wardrobe.

"Let's go then. You can watch them like a maniac." He promises.

It seems easy for both boys to fall into a routine they have been depriving themselves of so quickly.

 

After spending the afternoon – and then the evening, once the others got home and Robin started a barbecue –in the yard, the three boys make their way upstairs in various states of tiredness.

Harry is the first to claim the bathroom, after Fizzy knocks on the door to let them know it’s empty, and Louis and Niall are left sitting on the bedroom floor. Niall is the first to break the awkward silence.

“So, you two figured it out?”

Louis shrugs “We talked. Haz is... incredible, as always. Says he understands and forgives me.” He stops, taking a breath. “Didn’t know it would be this easy, actually. But like- I think we’ll be okay.”

Niall hums, nodding quickly before scooting closer to Louis.

“Listen mate,” he starts. “I already said what I wanted to, did me bit and all.”

Louis waits, sure there’s more.

“But Harry wasn’t- things didn’t go fine and dandy once you chucked him aside. You make sure whatever shit happens next, you don’t do it again.” Niall is standing up, patting Louis on the shoulder just in time for Harry to enter the room. “Other than that, my job here’s done.”

Harry looks at them confusedly, but Niall, much as he just did with Louis, claps Harry on the shoulder and goes to fetch his towel to use the bathroom.

“What was that about?” Harry inquires, toweling his wet hair. “Did Niall go ‘wise leprechaun’ on you?”

Louis snorts, shaking his head.

-

“Are you sure you don’t want to come, boys?” Anne asks, already by the door.

The girls, Robin and Mark are already sorting themselves into cars. It’s Thursday night, and there’ll be burgers at Mcdonalds and a movie session with smuggled candy.

“I haven’t watch the other one yet,” Niall states, regretfully.

Jay’s upstairs, putting the babies to sleep and taking a shower, foregoing the movie for a night in to help her migraine. Louis and Niall sit in opposite sofas, eyes half on Harry’s mother and half the football match, although Harry himself is sure neither of the boys cheer for the teams playing. The curly haired boy exits the kitchen, three small bowls of popcorn balanced precariously on his arms. He deposits them carefully at the center of the table, claiming for himself the reclinate chair next to Louis, and turns to his mother.

“Honestly mum, we’re cool. Might go out later?” He gives his most innocent wide eyed smile. ~~~~

Anne only squints her’s back at her son.

“Make sure you do while Jay’s still up, and tell her. And you three better be back before one, hear me?”

“Guaranteed, Anne.” It’s Louis who promises, reaching over Harry for a bowl of popcorn.

That seems to be the end of the conversation, as Anne nods and blows them all kisses and locks the front door behind her.

“You want to go out?” Louis asks, nudging Harry with his foot.

“Just in case, really,” Harry twitches. “You, Nialler?”

Niall, splayed out in the couch and with lazy eyes focused on the television, makes an aborted noise that isn’t really an indication of either yes or no.

“‘M fine in stuffing meself and watching telly, to be honest.”

That’s when Jay walks downstairs, hair up and pajamas on, and sits next to Louis, planting a soft kiss in her son’s hair.

“I very much agree with that idea, Niall,” she comments, and then lightly slaps Louis leg. “So why don’t you put on something actually interesting for everybody, and I can make something sweet?”

 

 

Friday morning is chaos. The little ones are probably the most quiet of them all, munching happily on their bottles filled with mango juice. Fizzy and Lottie are arguing about a boy from Doncaster, which makes Louis squirm and shout at his sisters, which in turn makes Phoebe pout because she and Daisy had just finished sculpting the sand around Louis to resemble a castle. Niall is complaining about getting red instead of tanned and Mark and Robin are discussing a game. Jay and Anne make plans for the week ahead - the last one of spring.

Towards the left end of the group, Harry lays. Hidden under one of the parasols with a book resting on his lap, the boy sleeeps peacefully.

 

It’s the twins who wake up Harry. Although technically, it was Louis who dropped the two babies on Harry’s chest, and it was Louis’ hand guiding Doris’ little dirty wrist into knocking Harry’s cheek.

”Wake up,” Louis mocks a toddler's voice.

Harry opens his eyes stifling a yawn, giggling when he notices Ernest holding a bit of Harry’s gray shirt in his mouth, slobber making the gray go dark.

”It’s too hot for sand castles Lou,” Harry whines, picking up Ernest and sitting up.

The green eyed boy reaches to place a kiss on Doris’ palm, scrunching up his nose for the sticky mess he finds.

”It’s just juice,” Louis pauses, looking down at his younger sister. ”I think.”

”Oh gross,” Harry complains.

Louis shrugs, holding Doris to his hip as he stands up.

Harry takes a moment to observe the boy, with his blue shorts and shirtless, a tiny baby by his hip. It takes Harry a moment to swallow down that thing he most definitely never talks about.

”C’mon, we’re going to that italian place.” Louis says, but it sounds like a question.

Harry stands up, shaking his head a bit and laughing when Ernest immediately grips a lock. Louis is looking at him sideways, head tilted to the side.

”Okay, Haz?” Louis inquires. Harry wonders what Louis sees, and then remembers that sometimes it’s better to keep to yourself if you don’t even know what you’re asking.

”Sure, sure.” Harry starts to walk. ”Let’s go meet ‘em.”

 

Somehow, between a nap and another, Niall found himself a girl - Danah, Tina, or something like that - who invited the boy to a bonfire. Niall has no game, whatsoever, so he made Harry promise to go with him. Louis is lying in his bed, freshly out of the shower when Harry enters the room and says: “Oh good, you’re getting ready.” Louis is confused.

“Harry, darling,” Louis says slowly. “We’ve been coming here for a decade. There’s a reason I’ve never gone to bonfires.”

Harry can’t help but pout.

“Why?”

Louis sits up, wicked quirk to his lips.

“Because I don’t want to,” the boy says simply.

It doesn’t take more than three minutes for Harry to make Louis stand up and start rummaging for clothes.

And so as ten pm rolls around, after their mums make them have a big dinner (“ _Just in case somehow someone puts beer in one’s juice, eh?”_ Jay had teased as Anne made sure to give Harry a stern-yet-amused look), three boys trot down the avenue towards the sand pathway, fire lights visible in the distance.

“Where’s she, Niall?” Louis asks when they’re in seeing range.

Niall frowns, “Dunno. Let’s go around yeah?”

Louis shrugs, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and pats himself searching for the lighter. Harry frowns, but doesn’t comment. Louis, however, stops.

“You really, really hate me smoking?”

Harry shakes his head, so-so.

“I guess I just remember all the lectures you used to give Mark, worry about your lungs and all.”

Niall cackles “Yeah, cuz weed doesn’t damage your lungs”

Harry notes Louis taking a breath, knows that face; the “I’ll win this and drag your ass around the street” look. Harry places a hand over his mouth before the boy can start.

“Different smoke Niall, we already had that conversation.”

As soon as he finishes, Louis licks a stripe over Harry’s mouth, the younger boy letting out a shriek and jumping away. At the same time Harry’s body collides with one behind him, and Niall whispers: “Found her. I’m going in.”

Louis hand grips Harry’s, pulling him away from the person he bumped into, but there’s another hand on the curly lad’s waist, and a slurred voice saying.

“You could just say hi, gorgeus. I’d have noticed you, promise.”

Before Harry can reacts, there’s a sharp tug at his hand and he’s stumbling towards Louis.

“Sorry mate. My mistake,” the older boy snaps. “C’mon Haz.”

“No need to go so quickly.” The boy - man, Harry notes - assures.

“Hm, thanks. But we’ll be... Yeah, over there.” Harry says.

“How old are you mate?” Louis interupts, frowning. “Shoo away.”

He turns around, but Harry tugs his hand.

“Lou!” He reprimands, and then turns towards the man.

He has a nice tan, like he’s spend all his time on the beach - local, probably - and his hair is in a weird quiff, chest naked and wet by his own drink; that Harry made him spill.

“Sorry about the drink.” He motions towards the guy’s chest. “And about him. He’s really not that rude.”

The man looks over to Louis, smirking.

“It’s okay. Tell your twink we could all have some fun together.”

Harry mouth hangs open, and he only snaps out of it when Louis forcefully pulls their hands apart, turning around promptly and running off.

Harry looks at Louis retreating back, and then back at the guy. Repeats it two times. He reaches for the guys half-empty cup and chugs it at his chest. However it doesn’t feel like enough, so Harry returns with two open palms as he shoves the guy, _hard._

“Arsehole!” He grits, then stalks off in the direction his best friend disappeared.

 

 

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” is the first thing Louis says.

Harry had approached him carefully. Louis was mostly hidden, lying inside a docked canoe. The only reason Harry didn’t walk straight past him was due to years of knowing Louis and all his habits.

“Lou…” Harry tries to control his emotions. “Louis, that guy was a dickbag.”

 _But why does being gay scare you so much?_ He wants to ask, but doesn’t, won’t, can’t.

Louis shakes his head, doesn’t say anything. Harry won’t let them go back to the place they were a year ago, when he should’ve pressed Louis to open up to him. Refuses to have a repeat so instead, carefully, extremely carefully, Harry lowers himself inside the boat too. He gives Louis plenty of time to turn him down before placing an arm around the older boy’s shoulders.

Harry half expects Louis to snap at him, instead, the boy lunges into Harry, nearly toppling them over.

Time stands still. In their spot, ways away from the party, Harry listens rigorously to Louis breathing. He notices the moment his resolve breaks and the boy with cerulean eyes sniffs away his tears; Harry’s arms bind Louis closer.

It’s not a long while - only enough for Harry’s phone to vibrate in his pocket with messages, probably Niall - and Louis is sagging away from Harry, switching to a position that can’t be comfortable in the boat.

“I should’ve picked a comfy spot,” Louis mumbles, shifting a bit and trying to bring his hands to his face discreetly. Harry looks away, knows Louis would want him to. He focuses on his phone, and Niall’s texts.

 

Harry snorts, sending Niall quick instructions: “Meet us in the park near the house at 4am.” While Louis sits up, Harry admires the boy from the corner of his eye, happy to see the tears gone from the petite man’s face.

“What’s up?” Louis inquires, pulling Harry’s left arm - the one holding the phone - towards himself to see. “Go Niall!” He cheers.

 

They’re walking along the shore. They drift further away from the beach party, Louis mood still sour but not so closed off. Harry takes it as a win, but it still feels too small.

“Lou.” Harry clears his throat when his voice breaks around that single word. “Lou. If I asked you something, would you talk to me, or send me away?”

Louis stops, hand coming to tug at Harry’s wrist.

“I’ll probably not want to, but I will talk,” the older boy promises softly. “I know I’ve been… But you can ask, Harry. I won’t send you away.”

Harry feels the urge to hug the boy. Instead, as he knows how the conversation might go, the curly headed lad drops to the ground, propping himself up on his elbows as he waits for Louis to do the same.

“Why does it bother you so much?” He asks. “Why- Mark, that guy, _me_ ”

Louis shakes his head, murmurs. “Not you, never you.”

Harry shrugs, asking for Louis to answer the rest of his question.

“It’s true. What they say. I’m too- I like football, yeah? And lad’s night and all that stuff.” The boy pauses, takes a deep breath and lays down completely, eyes closed. “But I also like boys. Dressing nicely and fixing my hair. I like to talk loudly and I’m not fucking bulky like that arsehole.”

He stops, mouth twisting pitifully. Harry grabs Louis biceps at the same time he moves, cuddling to his side.

“There’s nothing wrong with any of that. There is absolutely nothing remotely defective with anything you just said Lou. You have to know that.” Harry strokes Louis cheekbone. “You’re so wonderful, Lou.”

As Harry finishes talking, light tears track down Louis face. Before Harry can swipe them away, Louis pulls away, sits up and holds a hand out.

“I have to tell you. I can’t keep not telling you. And you’re so _nice,_ and so _you._ It’s killing me.”

Harry sits up as well, but keeps the distance Louis requested.

“A year ago… A year ago, I decided to stop pretend - to myself, mostly, but to everybody too.” He passes a hand through his brown feather hair. “I just didn’t know that everything would go to shit. Mark figured it out soon enough, or at least, he was the only one that confronted me about it.”

In his heavy pause, Harry jumps in. “He shouldn’t have done that. And he hit you! I’m not okay with that, still.”

Louis lets out a dry laugh, followed by a painful sound.

“Oh God. You’re gonna hate me so much in one minute.” Louis hugs himself, curling into a small ball. Harry makes a sound of protest, tries to reach for Louis. Before he can, the older boy shakes him off. “No, really. And you’ll have every right. I just... Won’t keep lying to you. I- I hate myself for it, feels vile and wrong to break your trust like that. But I’m- Haz.

Louis takes a deep breath, holds it tight in his chest. He turns to face the younger boy with his whole body.

“Harry, I’m in love you.” He rushes out, then can’t keep looking at wide green eyes and looks at his knees instead, talking in a low tone. “I’ve been in love with you for- I don’t even really know how long. And I was suppose to be- I’m older than you, and I had to look after you, not bloody lust after you. And I can’t think- Every time I feel this… thing inside of me, I hear Mark. Telling me how I’ve fucked up your trust, and your love. And I know, I know he’s right.” The boy is full on crying now. “I’m sorry, so sorry Harry. So sorry I’ve been-”

Harry can’t take it anymore. Hasn’t been thinking since ‘in love with you’ is all that runs through his mind, but he can’t keep seeing his boy crying. Crying because he thinks he’s losing Harry when actually-

Harry launches himself at Louis, knocking them both down, arms tight around Louis waist. Once Louis understands, feels the arms enveloping around him, the older boy’s body starts to heave with sobs.

“Lou, Lou, Lou,” Harry chants. “Shhh, c’mon, calm down. It’s okay. It’s perfect, you’re perfect. It’s so okay Lou.” Harry is petting the boy’s hair, happy to notice after a few minutes of this routine the boy beneath him finally stops shaking.

The stay like that, Harry’s body crushing Louis as he pets his hair, neck and arms. They keep in this position while Harry assures Louis over and over that ‘it’s okay, it’s okay, just breathe, please Lou. Breathe.’ Their position only moves once Louis is completely subdue, shaky breaths more regular, if only a little. That’s when Louis murmurs:

“I’m sorry.” Again. But he can’t get much further than this.

Harry’s face is millimeters away from his, a timid smile on his lips as the boy’s eyes scan Louis face. Harry has never felt his chest beat this strong in his chest, he’s certain of it.

“I’m not.” He promises. “I- I love you too, Lou.”

He closes his eyes, crosses the last bit of space between them, and then he’s connecting their lips.

At first, for one ghastly second, Harry is certain Louis will pull back; he opens his eyes to find blue ones widen underneath him. He’s not sure what Louis sees though, all he knows is that one second he’s got Louis pinned beneath him with a terrified expression and not kissing him back and in the very next second, Louis is pulling hard on his shirt while his other hand cups the base of Harry’s neck.  He’s pulling at his hair, making Harry let out a filthy moan. They’re all tongues, hands, moans, and rutting against each other.

Harry wishes for this moment to never stop, but sometime they have to come back for air. Louis whines underneath Harry.

“Haz. Haz. C’mon, Hazza. We have to- I think we should... C’mon, c’mon Haz. Talk. Let’s talk yeah?” But he’s panting between kisses, searching for Harry lips in between words, and it takes a while before they’re able to pull apart - a few centimeters at best.

Louis lips are bitten raw, and Harry thinks he’d like to keep them that way. Judging by Louis’ thumb sweeping over Harry’s bottom lip and the mirth in his eyes, the older boy has a similar desire.

Before they get sidetracked again, however (and very much against Harry’s wishes) the blue eyed boy shakes his head, tapping Harry’s shoulder to roll off him.

“C’mon, sit up. Talk. I need to talk to you about…” He fumbles his hand about, but Harry gets his drift.

Sitting on the heels of his feet, Harry frowns.

“What is there to _talk_ about Lou?” He whines. “I love you, you love me. Can you kiss me again?”

Louis smile is bashful and full of teeth, his upper lip glistening with Harry’s saliva and Harry would very much enjoy be kissing those lips again, but…

“You really love me?”

Harry is eager to nod, trapping his bottom lip with his front teeth in an attempt to control his smile. He fails. Louis looks at him in a similar fashion, but there’s still a small furrow in his brow.

“But, are you sure? I mean, for how long, do you think?” He presses, in what Harry thinks is the most stupid he’s ever been (forget about that time Louis was certain he’d succeed in jumping further away from a table than Harry and then, in order to win his own stupid challenge, had grabbed onto a sharp corner of the wall and busted his knee open).

“Because I’ve been shite for you this past year now, and I kinda-but-not-kinda lied to you about the gay thing even though not quite?” Louis finishes, confusing even himself, hands messing up his hair and a groan escaping his lips.

“Lou, you can’t put a time-limit on yourself to figure out your sexuality” Harry half scolds, half comforts.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” blue eyes electric and wide. Harry wants to put him in his pocket just to have him near his heart at all times.

“I don’t want to force you into something either, Harry! Oh god, I don’t. But I also really, really don’t want to be hurt by you. I just sprung all this on you, and I get if you don’t want like, a _relationship…_ thing. We don’t even live in the same city, and I don’t- I just don’t think I could…”

He doesn’t finish, cheeks flushing as he looks down. Harry, however, doesn’t need him to finish at all; knows exactly what he means if only because he feels the exact same thing down to his bones.

“Don’t think I could have you and then give you up,” Harry supplies helpfully, hopefully.

The older boy nods mutely, dumbfounded.

“Oh.”

Harry’s laugh is bright and free, if only a tad bit fazed, but who can blame him? How many people can tell others that their embarrassing crushes ended up being mutual? Well, Harry doesn’t really care about the statistics. He’s got a boy to kiss.

 

 **ONE YEAR AND THREE MONTHS LATER  
** **18 - 20**

 

 

 

Harry replies and then pays the cab driver. Grabbing his two bags in one hand, Harry checks the taxi and then sends the driver off with a small wave.

Before he can even properly turn around, there’s a warm body wrapping around his. Soft hands he knows too well dipping beneath his shirt and pressing him closer in a desperate embrace.

Harry laughs, mentally scolding himself for the wetness in his eyes. It only takes him half a second to drop his bags on the ground - hopefully not spoiling the children's treats - and then he’s picking up the smaller boy in his arms and chanting:

“Lou, Lou, Lou!”

The boyfriends are so engrossed in each other that they only pull apart not by the childish giggles thrown in their direction, but by the amused and synced shout over it:

“OI!” Loui’s legs leave Harry’s hips, and Harry promptly drops the older boy.

Lottie and Fizzy watch them with matching smirks, and Fizz is holding a very grown up Ernie in her arms, though the boy squirms when he catches Harry’s attention.

With a content sigh, the curly lad takes a step away from Louis and reaches to cup his boyfriend face, thumb sweeping over the prickles of growing hair on his jaw.

“Hi love,” Harry greets.

Louis tongue pokes out and he crosses his eyes. Over the years, Harry has learned that sometimes that is as good as a greeting as he’ll get. He’s proven right as Louis just takes one of the bags off the ground and pokes Harry until he gets the other one and starts walking.

Throughout the next hour Harry greets the immediate Tomlinson family with Jay making him run upstairs to stash away the presents until after lunch. Harry is then led around the party, being introduced by the Tomlinson women as ”Louis’ boyfriend”, ”baker, businessman, and boyfriend”, or some other variation of the sort.   ~~~~

Of course, when it’s Louis’ hand he’s holding while smiling politely at someone even Louis has trouble remembering the name of, he’s referred to simply as “my boy.”

It’s after 9pm when they get into Louis’ car, after promising Jay to stop and sleep, as well as schedules check ups on their way home.

Once they back out from the drive away, the older of the two boys lets out a huff.

“I thought we’d have to pry the key out of her hand!”

Harry’s only reply is a quick, yet longer than it should be, kiss on the cheek.

 

 

 

 

 

The sound of the waves hitting the shore is comforting, familiar, and that makes him smile.

The boy lowers himself onto the wet sand and closes his eyes. There's a warm body next to his, feathery touches underneath his shirt; from pecs to hip bone, which also makes him smile.

The green eyed boy lets his mind wander, thinking about how far both he and his boy have come in every aspect of their lives. Harry thinks about finishing college and his A-levels. He thinks about Zayn shoving Louis along with him towards righteous paths even if said paths lead them further away from Harry, all the way to London. But Harry also thinks about his signature printed on the lease for the run down flat the older boy rented, and how Louis had gone about asking him to move in. ("I mean, Zayn will be working crazy hours at the tattoo shop at first, and I really don't know what to expect from drama school. We'll probably be dead before the three years lease is over anyway, won't have to worry about renewing it." There was a pause, as he'd look up from the book in his lap and hushed out: "Unless of course you move in." Harry's eyes had widened, the boy choking on a grape he'd just popped in his mouth. "You don't have many plans for after your A-levels, do you?" And that was that.)

"Haz," a small voice murmurs. Harry stays very still, trying to keep up the appearance of sleep. "Curly? Hazza? Hairy Harry?"

Harry opens his eyes then, mouth turning downwards.

"Heeeey. 'M not hairy."

Louis just grins, tugs on the few hairs in Harry's chin.

"Thought that was the look you were trying to convey." The blue eyed boy taps Harry on the face. "Only going for compliments tonight."

Harry sticks his tongue out, but swings an arm to grab Louis by the shoulders anyway, pulling the boy half on top of him and holding him there.

"You better shower me in compliments," Harry says in a dignified voice. "Otherwise I won't comply to sex on the beach."

Louis laugh is carefree and loud, just like Harry likes it, but the vibrations of his body send a shot of arousal through Harry's body. If the circular motions of Louis' hips that follow are any indicator, the older boy feels it too.

"Beautiful," Louis mouths against Harry's neck. "The most beautiful boy in the world. And you're all mine, yeah?"

Harry nods, tongue heavy in his mouth.

"And you always takes such great care of me. Even when I'm a slob." Louis’ devious tongue captures Harry's earlobe, nipping and biting. Louis’ hips never stop.

"Like to take care of you. Like to know you're good," Harry answers, doesn't even know if there was a question to answer, just needs Louis to know.

The blue eyed boy pulls back, placing a hand on Harry's chest and the other on his hand and guides it to his own waist.

"Christ. How are you real?" Louis wonders, leaning down to kiss Harry.

It's not their most coordinated kiss, nor the best one, but it's filthy and hot and everything both boys are yearning for at the moment.

In no time at all, Louis wiggles Harry's jeans to his knees and then off completely, slapping the younger boy lightly when he makes to complain about sand.

The blue eyed boy makes a strangled sound once he makes room for himself between Harry's legs.

"Babe. Please, don't tease," Harry pleads.

Louis smirks, taking Harry’s already hard cock in his hand, but not moving it. He leans down, tongue poking out as he locks eyes with his boyfriend.

Louis licks start at the very base of Harry's cock, bottom lip close enough that Harry can feel it's warm near his balls. The older boy takes his time, dragging his tongue from base to tip, where he gives small kitten licks at the slit, while twisting his hand just right to keep Harry from bucking his hips.

"Louis," The boy whines.

Louis cracks, pulling back and giggling as he goes to kiss Harry.

"I'll be good," he promises.

Before Harry can express any gratitude, that sinful mouth is circling his cock again, and going down down down.

"Oh Jesus!" Harry cries "Never gonna get tired of this mouth Lou. Fucking hell."

Louis just bobs his head more enthusiastically in response. Harry curses again, this time pulling at the light brown hair.

"Wait, wait, babe," he pants "I'm gonna come too quickly, c'mon only want to come with you. C’mon c’mon”

It takes a few long moments, in which Harry tries to think of anything and everything to keep himself from coming. It's hard, pun intended, but he manages to hold it until Louis mouth is off of him, blue eyes framed by frowning eyebrows. Before he can complain or ask anything, Harry is pulling Louis’ T-shirt off and turning them, hands set heavy on his boyfriend's meaty thighs as he lowers Louis onto the sand.

"Want to be inside you. Want to make you feel good, yeah?" He prompts, but also asks.

Louis scrunches his nose.

"Thought you'd be getting fucked," the boy admits, but continues before Harry can reply. "If you get sand in my arse Harry, I won't talk to you for a week."

Harry snorts.

"Would never spoil such a pretty bum"

"A week," Louis threatens again, slapping Harry's thigh for good measure.

"Would be worth it," Harry mumbles, too low for Louis to hear.

Then he sets in action, kissing Louis on his lower tummy, mouthing at the light patch of hair growing there. Harry can already picture shaving Louis in the shower in the morning, back at the house.

He pops the buttons of his jean shorts with a fumbling hand, while looking to his backpack in search for the damn pink toiletry bag. Louis takes pity on him and wiggles out of his own pants.

"Fucking hell. Who's idea was this?" Louis complains from under Harry. "It’s cold!"

Harry finds the bag at the same time Louis opens his thighs and that's too much of an invite to let slide.

"Yours. And it's summer, love." Harry then bites down on Louis' thigh, sucking on the skin and licking it.

"The wind is- ah! Haz!" Louis breathes "The wind is cold." He finishes with a pout.

“Gonna keep you warm,” Harry promises.

Louis laughs, thighs tightening around curly hair. “You’re the worst.”

Harry spreads the lube onto two fingers, applying pressure against Louis hole.

“You lo-o-ve me.” He singsongs.

Louis spreads his thighs as wide as he can, the heels of his feet sliding up the sand, trying to sink the fingers teasing his rim in. Harry takes pity on the boy and, with no other warning than his sly smirk, thrusts one finger all the way inside.

The boy underneath Harry stills for a second, but it's enough for Harry to worry. Before he can try to apologize or take his finger out, Louis’ moving his hips with newfound determination.

“Another, give me another, _please_ ,” Louis pants.

“Jesus Lou,” Harry mutters, but is quick to comply.

In no time at all, Louis’ wiggling in the sand, Harry’s trying his best to keep the older boy’s lower half from rolling off the towel spread underneath.

With three fingers pressed inside of Louis, the boy looks absolutely flushed, pretty and whining, as Harry would tease him later. _Later_ , however, because at the moment, Louis’ dick is twitching, red and hard, and all Harry can do is dip his face, taking the entire length in his mouth with minimal effort.

“Fuck, fuck,” Louis chants. “Get _in me!_ Fuck me, c’mon c’mon.”

Harry quickens his pace, fingers sinking into Louis with a stunning mix of force and gentleness. Louis is having none of it as he snaps away from Harry’s hold and turns around; face down and ass up.

“Fuck me,” he demands. “Takes forever to fuck me when you fucking top, swear to God I’ll-”

And then Louis’ promptly shutting up, for Harry enters him in one single thrust.

 

 

**SEVEN YEARS LATER  
25 -  27**

It's the beginning of spring, and Harry is seconds away from bursting into tears and melting away right in the spot he’s standing in.

There are toddlers waddling around him, and Harry has no idea when he progressed from a twenty five year old to being plain “old”, and babysitting all the children his friends could throw at him. The point is, there are three toddlers demanding attention and making it impossible for Harry to go through their to do list for the day.

Louis’ somewhere with bloody Liam and Zayn, who after meeting at uni decided it was a good idea to elope and adopt a set of twins. Which normally would be fine by Harry, but not when Lou’s daughter’s added to the mix along with the big mistake of too much sugar. Harry is alone and helpless and can’t seem to keep Anthony happy unless Harry is banging something or causing the kind of anarchy that is extremely counter-productive for their to-do list.

When Lux almost falls of the kitchen counter, she was hanging off because Harry was too busy bathing the twins to make a snack at the time and then forgot, Harry nearly screams his head off. After that, the three kids are seated in front of television and advised to not make a sound until Harry gets off the phone.

It only rings two times before the person on the other end answers.

“Hi love! Can you believe the type of stuff they are selling off, H?” Louis voice is chirpy. “I’m buying you so much hipster shit, I think we’ll need a new flat just for the vinyls.”

“Lou…” Harry starts. He thinks he wants to thank his boyfriend for being the most incredible one in the world, but then his voice breaks off, in only that one word.

Louis’ immediately stops, the sounds in the background fading to nothing as he hurries:

“Haz, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are the kids? Talk to me!” His tone is panicky.

Harry lets out a wet laugh, sliding to the floor but still keeping an eye on the kids as of now engrossed in Tarzan playing on the flat screen.

“We’re fine. They’re watching Disney right now,” Harry reassures and sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. Just, got overwhelmed. The kids soaked me while they were showering, and then Lux almost got hurt because I was chasing the twins to put them in some clothes and she wanted a snack and I felt like shi- like a bad person.”

“Rough day, then?” Louis chuckles at his slip. “Sorry we left you on your own.”

“Nah, not really hard just… Think I needed to hear your voice.” Harry admits. “When we have kids everyone will have to babysit for us though!”  
There’s a pause where Harry sucks in a deep breath when he realises what he’s said. Louis’ side has gone eerily quiet, as if he’s only ever thought of the opportunity as an ’if’. Harry puts the phone down, green eyes suddenly welling up with tears because… He thought he was getting all these _signs,_ and it isn’t to say they aren’t serious seriously dating and Harry really thought that that was where they were headed.

He doesn’t get too much further in his own doubts before there’s a voice barreling through.

“Hazza? Harry!” It’s Louis’ voice coming both from the back of the house and through the phone. “Can you come to the back porch _right now?_ ”

Harry scrambles to his feet, only taking a quick look at the kids. It’s only as Lou appears in the back door with Gemma next to her that Harry start walking outdoors. Why the heck is his sister here? And since when have they been here? Was Harry about to have a meltdown in there while they all sat around in the backyard? Where are the hundreds of shirts he was promised?

“Louis William Tomlinson! What is going on?” He yells through the hallway. “Do you have my shirts?”

Louis slides up in Harry’s vision range, hands held up as he jogs to grab Harry’s hand, and then pull him along.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he rushes out. “Just, wait a sec,”

Harry looks Louis up and down, the wet hair and a black suit that he seemed to somehow rush into, then he looks up, and is met with his closest friends and family, pressed together with excited smiles on all of their faces.

“Holy fuck, I forgot the entire bloody speech!” Louis yells, which makes Harry’s attention shift pretty quickly. “It’s just, you talked ‘bout babies, and now all I want is to kiss you and I also want to point out I did not buy any shirts, but I’ll buy them all for you, I promise-”

Harry covers Louis mouth with both hands.

“Breath.” He mocks.

Louis licks his palm without thinking, and when Harry backs his hands away as quick as if someone burned him, and then goes to lick one finger to smear on him, Louis knows he’s making the right decision.

Without waiting for the balloons cue, or to try to find his speech, or even ask for the bloody ring, he drops to one knee, holding onto Harry’s thigh for support.

“Marry me. Let me make you the happiest person in the world as you do to me every single moment I spend with you.” It’s not exactly his most articulate moment, as much as he wishes he wasn’t already crying. “I’ve loved you for so long; so long I sometimes wonder if it can ever grow any stronger and you always prove me wrong. And I’ll be forever grateful for that. I know you wanted one of those very public proposals but I… I was too much of a wimp to do it outside of a controlled environment, because I thought it would be really scary. It really is really scary, by the way. If you think you could put me out of my misery or maybe just shut me up because I think I’ll-”  
Harry drops to his knees, left hand slapping Louis clumsily in his haste to take the other boy’s face in his hands.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Harry nods, pulling Louis for a love-filled kiss.

With the people most dear to him cheering them on, the boy of his dreams in his arms asking Harry to be his, a brand new flat about to be filled with new and precious memories, Harry is bursting with joy.

Spring is supposed to represent new beginnings; Harry is extremely grateful for their new start, and can already see a new finish line full of wonders to cross.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everybody enjoy it, I hope I achieved the expected from the prompt, and please remember I'm an insecure mess, so if you like this little piece lets spread the love via comments and kudos, yes? Yeah, thanks.  
> -  
> No seriously, if you read this whole thing, THANK YOU!♥ I'm still scared about putting this out, so I'm extremely grateful for you taking your time and reading it.


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